


put on your brake lights (you're in the city of wonder)

by GalaxyGhosty



Series: The Monster's Darling [18]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-09 23:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11114709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: AU. “Let’s say I believed you for a moment,” Cry says slowly. “Let’s play pretend. You don’t love Jack, and you don’t care about him at all. So you should have no trouble hearing what happened between us in our intimate time together. I feel it’s only fair--after all, you did answer my question about my man. Let me tell you about yours.”





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, before this part begins: Cry details what he did to Jack, and it's **BAD**. If you're sensitive about reading that, I'll recap the important gist of this part in the chapter two of **THIS PART**. Please do not read this if it's going to upset you to a detrimental level. 
> 
> I really wanted to detail what happened to Jack because I feel like it's important for Dark to know--even if he didn't want to. And I know that from what we've seen, Jack has appeared normal but that's only ever really been from Dark's point of view, who purposely sought to not see anything. When he found out Dark lied to him, his whole world crumbled because this was the person he was meant to trust, and now suddenly it becomes obsolete. Needless to say, he's having trouble.
> 
> This part sets up for what will be Cry's downfall. I hope I can make it satisfying enough to provide recompense to all the horror that he's done. 
> 
> There will be a chapter two for this part. Keep an eye on that.
> 
> Title from "Disturbia" by The Cab.

| _"Bum bum be-dum bum bum be-dum bum..."_ |

He throws the device, watching slender fingers catch it with ease. 

“I respect you,” Dark says coolly, leaning back in his chair. “And I think you know that. So what you have in your hands is access to some of my most protected files.” 

Hazel eyes regard him warily. As they should. No one in this organization should ever trust everything they hear. No one should ever trust Dark implicitly, but here this young man is, this young beast is, latching onto his every word. 

“As you know, I’ll be undertaking a mission of my own agenda,” Dark murmurs. He taps his nail on the desk. “And in the event that it goes south, I need someone here to continue my work. Jules, of course, will be that person.” 

No response. Good. He’s waiting for the finished statement. Dark smiles, despite himself. “But Jules, as we know, will not be undertaking killing missions. Man has a personal vendetta against anything bloody or gruesome--and we know that this organization is well known for that particular stream of crime. This is where you come in, Inverse.” 

He pauses for a moment, waiting for a prompt, waiting for Inverse to question him on something, but nothing comes out. Ever the dutiful dog he is. “On that device, you’ll find a log of various cases I’m to undertake in the coming future. It’s also a device filled with codes for weaponry that I’ve stowed away among various parts of our organization. Contact information. Anything you may need for the immediate future. Should I become unable to complete those tasks, Jules will give you the combination to unlock that device. Any questions?”

Inverse’s fingers wrap around the device, calloused and crooked and stiff. “With all due respect, sir, would it not be better to take me with you?”

The young man is a little monster in his own right--he seems completely detached from reality more often than not. He laps up every word Dark spills from his lips, answering to his every beck and call. He would be a formidable adversary if he didn’t obsess over Dark so. 

“I need someone here to carry out my work,” Dark murmurs. “I’m perfectly capable of handling this situation with Cry without your help. I’ll be taking Anti with me.” 

“And Jack,” Inverse has never pretended to like Jack, and Dark knows it, if his acid tone is anything to go by. But Inverse is also aware that if he ever laid so much as a hand on him, Dark would kill him and follow him straight to hell. 

“Yes,” he affirms. He rises to his feet. “That is all, Inverse. Go.” 

Inverse inclines his head, perhaps in respect, perhaps in mocking. Dark doesn’t care. He exits the room, pocketing the device, and Dark lets out a slow breath. 

This is going to be a long couple of weeks. 

~~

The phone rings three times before the voicemail picks up. That’s three more rings than Dark is expecting. 

Jules had warned him about calling this number. This is a delicate operation. Dark sets the phone down, and counts--

_One. Two. Three. Four._

He picks the phone back up and calls again. 

Two rings before the voicemail picks up. 

He repeats the process of setting the phone down, counting, and picking it back up, until there’s six rings with no voicemail. 

Dark steps into character, not for the first time nor the last, when the receiver clicks, and the call begins. 

_“Grimoire,”_ it’s not Cry’s voice, but he knows this, and he’s expected this. It’s a man that he associates with--Cry’s face behind his face. Russ, maybe. That’s his name. _“Is this a threat?”_

He’s had many nicknames over the years, and Grimoire is not unknown to him. He chalks it up as a compliment in its own way, a nod at Jules’ own nickname for him. But Dark hates this man, though, thinks of all the pain, all the suffering he has inflicted by his own desires, by Cry’s desires, and all the hell Dark wants to put him through. He knows that Russ certainly had part in Cry’s decision to organize the hit on Jack’s mom. He’s just as responsible, and Dark will see their entire operation decimated before he’s done. 

“Of course not,” he says smoothly. “If I wanted to threaten you, you’d know it well.”

_“This sounds like a threat,”_ Russ mumbles back. _“What business do you have?”_

“Your employer once asked me if I would work with him,” Dark pushes all thoughts of Jack from his mind, cutting him out, because Jack is weakness and he can’t be weak, not now. He can’t fuck this phone call up, no matter what he does. He has always been the Monster, and he will play his part well tonight if it kills him. “And I refused.”

A pause. Then, _“I recall.”_

“In light of...certain events,” the words roll off Dark’s tongue as effortlessly as he’d hoped they would. “I have interest in renegotiating.” 

_“The last time you spoke with Cry,”_ Russ says. _“You held a death threat to him. Am I to believe that is no longer the case?”_

“Again,” Dark insists. “Things have changed. Things I will discuss with Cry, should he decide to meet with me.” 

_“And the boy?”_

Dark blinks once. “The boy will no longer be an issue. He’s no longer apart of my life. We’re not here to discuss my lapse in judgment--though if necessary, I will elaborate details in length with Cry, and not over the phone.” 

_“Cry does not meet with everyone,”_ Russ tells him, and god this man is more robotic than anything he’s ever heard. _“What benefit could you offer?”_

His lips curl into a smirk. “Aside from the reputation that follows myself alone, it’s not unknown that Jules Arvid works for me. His influence spreads much further than Cry’s current assets, and I believe that a certain...partnership would benefit us both.” 

_“Cry does not change his ways,”_ Russ informs him. _“Our terms will not waver.”_

“I was simply asking for renegotiation,” Dark says again. “But after this lengthy discussion, I’ve become rather bored. I’ll bid you goodnight.” 

It’s a risky move, but pulling the phone away, Dark hangs up, and waits. 

“In two days,” Jules says, closing his laptop. Dark finally lets himself look at him. “You should hear back. If not, we fucked it, and we try something else.” 

“This had better work,” Dark shakes his head. “I didn’t gear myself up to get friendly with the freak for it to crumble and me go in there, guns blazing.” 

“At least you’re good at that,” Jules quips, and Dark can’t even be mad, because he’s right. 

~~

It takes a day and a half for the phone to ring. 

Cry likes to keep people guessing, he supposes. 

Dark waits three full rings before he answers the call, not prompting him, instead waiting for the man in question to speak the first words. 

_“Dark,”_ Cry’s voice is as static as ever. _“I heard a little something about you.”_

“I recall telling your associate I was bored with this exchange already,” Dark fires back, gentle but firm. “I really wasn’t expecting you to call.”

_“Yes, you were,”_ Cry says smoothly. _“But no matter. You wish to renegotiate terms? What makes you think I’m still interested?”_

Dark leans back in his chair. “I don’t. It was merely an offer, an extension of an olive branch, if you will. If you’re not interested, you needn’t have returned the message.” 

_“Let’s discuss, then,”_ Cry murmurs, the voice distorter cracking. _“The Black Pond, tomorrow. You know the place, yeah?”_

“Not exactly private,” Dark muses aloud. “I’m not sure I want the rift-raft overhearing us.”

_“No one will bother us,”_ Cry assures him smoothly. _“I’ll see you soon, Grimoire.”_

The dialtone bids him farewell. 

~~

Cry’s shuffling a deck of cards when Dark strolls in, gun at his hip, knife in his pocket and steady hands. His teeth and ambitions are bared, and he knows what he wants out of this conversation. 

He eases into the seat front of him, and he’s well aware that Cry knows he’s here. But the man keeps shuffling, as though memorizing, counting each individual card, before setting them down on the table, the rumble of voices drowning out their sound. 

“Do you remember how to play solitaire?” Cry asks, and Dark has long gotten used to the uncomfortableness of the white mask. 

“Yes,” Dark answers, crossing his arms on the table. “An old game, but yes.” 

“It’s a bit like improv in my eyes,” Cry mumbles, tapping the deck with a single gloved finger. “You take what you get and keep going. I enjoy it quite a lot. Keeps me sharp. Keeps me thinking. You know what I mean?” 

He settles in for a long night. “Your point?”

The masked man shakes his head, dealing himself out. He begins to organize cards. 

“You’re interested in working with me?” he asks, and the question is laced with something stronger, more potent. Dark feels odd, not having Jules in his ear, but it’d been important that he’d been on his own for this conversation. Cry can’t know what he’s planning. “I vaguely recall our last encounter ending with my death warrant signed with your hand.” 

“Feelings change,” Dark smiles. “If I had any. Business opportunities change. What I wanted then is no longer what I want now. My interests lie elsewhere.” 

“You expect me to believe you, to trust you?” Cry hums. He lays another card out. “When I know, without a doubt, you would put a bullet in me at your first opportunity?” 

His eyes glaze over the cards. “I don’t expect you to trust anything. That would make you a fool. Believing me is based on feelings, and I thought you were far beneath that.” 

“Right you are,” Cry says. “I don’t change anymore than you, Dark. My terms remain the same, as they always have. As they always will.” 

“I think a mutual understanding,” Dark says coolly. “Would serve us both well in the coming years. Don’t you agree?” 

Cry doesn’t answer then, choosing instead to place another card. The murmur of voices still plagues them, but the prying ears are null and void. Perhaps the two dangerous men in the corner causes people to be wary. 

“What did you do with that man?” Cry asks finally. “I’m curious.” 

“After my associate finished squeezing him for all he was worth,” Dark murmurs. “I broke each of his fingers for trying to hack into my things, left him for two more days in pain, and then strangled him with a belt. Jules took care of the rest. I haven’t the faintest idea where he ended up.”

Cry’s nodding like he was expecting this sort of answer. “Yes. That’s rather tame of you, I admit. Though I suppose he wasn’t exactly withholding information.” 

“No, he wasn’t,” Dark watches him lay down another card. “Boring, I’ll be honest. You really should learn to pick your members better. Make them more entertaining.”

“Eliminates half the fun, though,” Cry says. “When they’re scared, that is.” 

A round of silence follows, soft and tense. The masked man takes his time, perhaps testing Dark’s resolve, but Dark’s vengeance runs deeper than a mere couple of days.

“Speaking of scared,” he hums, and Dark imagines he’s smiling. “How’s your darling? Skittish as ever, I’d imagine.” 

Without blinking, Dark says breezily, “I don’t know. After the fiasco, he walked out. I quickly learned the shit wasn’t worth much when we weren’t fucking, so it honestly wasn’t a worthy pursuit.” 

It isn’t the first time Dark’s lied, and it won’t be the last, and he feels Cry sizing him up, soaking in his lie. He knows he doesn’t believe him, but this is part one of the drill. Cry won’t call him out for lying yet. 

“Figures you came to your senses,” Cry’s voice crackles. “Feelings are so...arbitrary, Dark. He must’ve been a good toy, though. After all, you came after him, so he must’ve been worth _something_. I know _I_ certainly had fun with him.” 

Glancing down at his fingers, Dark taps his nails together. In his most uninterested tone, “Oh?” 

“Boy’s got a set of lungs on him,” Cry muses. “He screamed so pretty, you know? Never seen blood that red, eyes that blue. His bones snapping sound unique on their own. Someone would’ve had such a wonderful time with him, but I’m glad it’d been me. Cried a lot, so that was annoying. Manageable, though. You understand?” 

Dark gazes at him with unwavering eyes. 

_“He’ll probably bait you,”_ Jules had told him. _“He’ll probably use Jack to try and elicit emotion out of you. He’ll say and do whatever it takes to make you crack, and once you do, it’s over. Whatever happens, Jack is safe, and you have to remember that. Don’t lose your cool. Don’t be interested. Don’t threaten him. Be cold and cruel, because that’s the only way you’re getting through to him.”_

“He always did cry a lot,” Dark offers him a small, twisted smile. “Always moaned about love and loving me, wanting me to love him back. I always enjoyed the way blood poured out of every little crevice of his pale skin. I must admire your handywork on him, though I do admit I could’ve done it myself.”

Cry tilts his head, placing another card down. “You’re interesting, Dark.” 

“I’d hope to be more than that,” Dark replies, rolling his shoulders. “Are we done speaking in riddles, now?” 

“Hmm,” Cry flips a new card in his hand, revealing the king of hearts. “The king reminds me of you, you know? Some say he’s stabbing himself in the head. Others say he’s holding it behind him, ready to strike. I think he’s got his own agenda.”

“I never considered you a card reader,” Dark murmurs, and there it is again, the way Cry’s gaze slides over him. 

The masked man doesn’t answer him straight away, maintaining the eye contact, or what little there could be between a mask. The soft rumble of voice stays that way, but everything still feels tense and stiff. 

“Let’s say I believed you for a moment,” Cry says slowly. “Let’s play pretend. You don’t love Jack, and you don’t care about him at all. So you should have no trouble hearing what happened between us in our intimate time together. I feel it’s only fair--after all, you did answer my question about my man. Let me tell you about yours.” 

“By all means,” and up goes the mental blocks, dampening the desire to rip Cry’s throat out, right then and there. “I really don’t give a damn.” 

Dark imagines if he could see Cry’s face, he would be smiling. 

“So it wouldn’t bother you,” Cry drawls, “if I told you I took pleasure in breaking his bones, cutting him open? That I enjoyed carving my words into his skin, in places I know you’ve seen, but you never looked for? That I broke his wrist so he wouldn’t fight me, I twisted his ankle so he couldn’t run. Kept him from sleeping, just so I could ingrain my voice into his memory, so he would never forget who he really belonged to?” 

_He’s mine_ , Dark thinks, but shoves the thought away as quickly as it’d come, as though Cry can hear his thoughts. 

_He’s trying to trick you_ , Jules’ phantom voice returns, cautioning him. _Don’t let him win._

“I don’t know why,” Dark says coldly. “You would expect that to bother me in the least. He was hardly better than a whore, except he didn’t need money to shut him up. Just a couple of fancy words.” 

“I hardly think he _isn’t_ a whore,” Cry tells him. “He really is a pretty thing, you know? Like a little bird. I loved the way he squirmed. The way he always flinched away from my touch, yanking away from me, but he always gave up, fucking into my hand. Taking my cock in his pretty mouth. Did you ever notice, Dark, how right before he comes, he lets out a little whine, tucking his lower lip between his teeth, and you can see the light dance behind his eyes for just a few seconds? God, I haven’t had that much fun in a while. I loathed to give him up. I’ll always remember the way he cried, blood mixing with saliva, and he would forget how to use words hours ago, but he always remembered the word _please_. So soft and broken, every so often, like it would stop me from ruining that beautiful body of his.” 

Dark’s throat is dangerously dry, but he doesn’t swallow, says nothing, only blinks. 

“He begged for you,” Cry draws another card. “Even when he thought you weren’t coming. He hoped. That’s one thing I adored about him. He always had hope. He was always vehement. _He’s not coming. He doesn’t love me_. But I could always hear the hope, dripping from his lips. Sometimes I heard him mumbling to himself--what was it he said? _Please Dark, please...get me out of here. Please. I’m so scared_.” 

_“You have to make it through this conversation without him calling you out,”_ Jules had said. _“Even if he loses his cool, you have to remain calm. You have to get to the end of the conversation, and you’ll have won. He won’t trust you, and that’s fine. But you need him to think you’re actually invested. Once you do that, we can go from there, and take the sonofabitch down.”_

Dark forces himself to yawn, his voice more strained than he’d like, but still--hopefully--smoothe. “I’m glad you enjoyed him. He’s not good for much else, to be honest.” 

The static of the voice distorter crackles. “When you’re involved in human trafficking, Dark, you can’t be attached. If we work together, I would enlist your help in carrying out my missions. Is that something you could stomach?”

Without faltering, “As long as you don’t suck my resources dry. In exchange for certain protections and safeways under my care, I’d like payment.” 

“Agreeable,” Cry nods. “To be discussed at a later date, I presume.” 

“Yes,” Dark sighs. “I’m rather tired of dealing with this atmosphere. I’ll leave you to your cards, and we can discuss rates for using my facilities.” 

“I’d always hoped you’d come around,” Cry says airily. “Take care, Grimoire.” 

With the dismissal, Dark rises to his feet and leaves the premise.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anti’s smile is pitying. “You’re stupid, Dark. A stupid, stupid man to think Jack McLoughlin could ever stop loving you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all--I'm so sorry this took me so long to get out. I've been really in a rut lately trying to work this part out, because the next chapter is going to be hell to get through--mostly because I want to make it worth the wait. I had to meticulously plan out exactly where I wanted this to go and how I wanted it to be done, and knowing now what I want out of it, I think it'll be a little smoother in transition. I won't promise an update really soon for the next part, and it'll probably be two-chapter as well because of the length, but overall I want to make this as satisfying as I can because I know everyone's been waiting for it, and I wanted to do it justice.
> 
> That said, hope this little tid-bit about Anti clears some things up. A couple of my friends told me it was obvious--and I figured it was as well. But I didn't want this reveal to overshadow what the plot of the story was--though I do hope this clears up his motives and why he's doing what he's doing! A little ironic, I think, once you start thinking about it. 
> 
> Anyway, enough of my babble. Please enjoy!

He arrives back at the keep and the moment he does, Dark punches the wall.

Again. Again. Again. Again. 

The world seems to melt away, focusing on the pain, focusing on the way he starts to see flecks of red on the walls, focusing on the resounding crack of his knuckles and the sharp sting, wondering how many times he can punch it before both of his hands crumble into dust. 

“You’re going to be useless if you break your hands,” Anti murmurs, and Dark whirls on him. 

He’s not sure he’s ever been angry enough to tremble, but he feels like a wet dog, unable to contain the pure, unbridled _fury_ coursing through him, threatening to spill over. Now that he’s able, now that he’s away from Cry’s prying eyes and soft, prodding voice, his mental blocks come down, and the wave of emotions runs into him. He plays on repeat over and over what he’d said, and imagines what he’d done, and he sees it all now. 

Dark had never wanted to. But it’s always been in the way Jack wakes up in the middle of the night mumbling words Dark couldn’t hear, the way that he flinched in those first weeks after, the way he caught him throwing up after they fucked, the way he wanted Dark to touch him softly, gently, whimpering at the slightest form of roughness. It’s always been there, since he got him back. 

“I’m going to eviscerate him from existence,” Dark seethes, curling his fingers into bloody fists. “I’m going to rip out his throat, tear open his chest, boil him alive, peel the skin off his fingers, shatter his kneecaps, set him on fire--” 

“What happened,” Anti’s demeanor shifts. “What did he do?” 

It seems even Anti doesn’t know all the answers. Dark yanks the tie from around his neck and _rips_ , trying to get the energy out, trying to keep himself from latching onto Anti and not letting him go until he’s a bloody pulp. The clack of Anti’s boots don’t surprise him, but when he fists his good hand into his collar, “What did he do, Dark?” 

The words don’t want to come out, but he can’t forget them. Swallowing, he drops his tie, the fabric torn and stretched as he hisses out, “He raped him. Multiple times. Cut him open and then fucked him, even while he begged. Just because he wanted to get at me.” 

“Fuck,” Anti breathes out, releasing him. “Goddamn it. Fuck. Fuck. Why the hell didn’t you check on him? Why didn’t you make him see someone? Why didn’t you _help_ him? You’re so fucking stupid, Dark. He can’t just get over that!”

“I didn’t want to know,” Dark admits, trying to keep his voice even. Anti’s eyes are furious when he meets them. “I didn’t want to know, because I would’ve gone down there and gotten myself killed trying to rid this planet of his miserable existence.” 

“He’s not okay,” Anti shakes his head, and he looks too angry. “Fuck! I knew Cry did something, but not--he’s a freak. A disgusting freak. You selfish prick, you didn’t want to face screwing up, you didn’t want to face causing that sort of harm on someone you love, so you ignored it! Killing Cry won’t take that away! You can’t erase what happened!” 

With his bloody fist, Dark punches him across the face. Anti braces himself enough to not hit the ground, but he stumbles. 

“I know I can’t take it away,” Dark spits. “All I can do is make him pay for it and move past it. I didn’t see you doing anything to stop it, _so shut the hell up_.” 

He’s not sure he’s ever seen Anti lose his cool like this. He scoffs, wiping at his mouth. “You’re a coward. You’re a goddamn coward, Dark.” 

Dark goes to answer, he really does. He punches him again, perhaps to impart another message, but something about the way Anti’s voice hits him, something about the way he holds himself just then. He looks like Jack, somehow, every time Jack’s ever called him out, every time Jack’s ever challenged him. Every time he’s been furious that Dark wouldn’t say he loved him. He looks familiar.

And then it hits him. Licking his lips, he murmurs, “Jack’s your brother.” 

Anti swallows. His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes--just like Jack--tell the entire story. 

“Half,” he admits, after some time. “He’s my younger half brother. I only recently found out from my deceased father’s records.” 

Jack’s got a brother. Jack has _family_. Someone alive. 

Anti. Of course it’s goddamn Anti. All of it makes sense now. Anti’s insistence that Jack be taken care of. Anti’s anger about Cry and what he’s done to him. Anti’s sudden interest in his life and what he’s doing _with Jack_ after dipping out of the scene so long ago. 

“Does he know?” Dark asks, his throat dry. “Does he know he has a brother?” 

“Of course not,” Anti scoffs. “And it’s going to remain that way.” 

Dark swallows. “There’s nothing in the world Jack wants more than a family.”

“And he’ll have it in you,” Anti runs his fingers through his hair. “Do you think I let you get near him on accident? Do you think my threats were empty? Do you think for one second that if I thought you meant him harm, I would let you take him home, put your hands on him, get him into shit? As much as you hate it, Dark, as much as you absolutely despise it, I know you. I know what you’re capable of. I know that you love him, and you’ll take care of him. I know you’ll give him the world, because you did it for me.” 

“He doesn’t love me anymore,” Dark says. “He needs you, now. He doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

Anti’s smile is pitying. “You’re stupid, Dark. A stupid, stupid man to think Jack McLoughlin could ever stop loving you.” 

~~

Jack’s sitting in the room with Jules when Dark strolls in, eyes transfixed on the screen while Jules taps away at the keys. 

Passing a single look to him, Dark murmurs, “Leave us.” 

The boy stares, blinks, before rising to his feet. He’s careful not to touch anything or touch any of Jules’ pieces of furniture, brushing past Dark without a single word. Dark can’t look at him without seeing Anti now, and it’s fucking with his head. 

“What’d you find out?” Jules asks, following Dark’s movements as he sinks into the chair adjacent from his desk. “Did he buy it?” 

“Yes,” Dark murmurs, putting a hand to his head. “Barely. I think he genuinely believes I’m interested in providing him safe passage in exchange for money. He’s got a hawk-eyed gaze on me, and he certainly doesn’t trust me, but as far as I can tell, he thinks I’m ready to do business.”

“Good,” Jules says. He taps a couple more things into his laptop, before turning the screen around. “So what I’ve got here is a layout of his place. Or at least a simulation of it. I’m basing this on the information that I found recently, and from tracking various phone calls all the way back to the source.” 

Dark squints at him. “How did you manage that?”

“Lots of bumping past firewalls, hacking, and gentle persuasion,” Jules cocks his head, and Dark remembers clearly why Jules is such a force to be reckoned with. If there’s anyone in the world who can get stuff done, it’s him. “Either way, this is a general simulation of what I think his keep looks like. From here, we can figure out the best way to destroy the organization, whether it be planting bombs or finding entry points to infiltrate. I’ve done my job. Your call.”

He nods slowly. “What was Jack doing in here?” 

A pause. Jules actually looks thoughtful for a moment. “He’s got a keen eye. Boy knows his way around computers and tech. He wanted to see me work out the simulation. Don’t tell him I told you this, but some of his incessant babbling helped to map this shit out, and I think his thoughts, when articulated, are actually useful.” 

Jules’ ice blue eyes stare at him, and Dark feels something of a request there, yet he can’t fathom it out. Dark scoots his chair closer to the image on the laptop, scanning over the layout of the building.

Two floors. An endless stretch of hallways and rooms. More underground than above it. Blowing up the place is out of the question and besides--he wants to watch Cry die. 

“Do you think if I can get in there,” Dark asks, “you could get a headcount of how many people are in there?” 

Jules shakes his head. “Numbers are finicky when it comes to this weirdo. He’s always bringing new people in, carrying people out. It’s hard to account for all the people that die, who leave. Even if you were to break into his office and get an official report, it’d be changed by the end of the night, most likely.” 

He doesn’t like these odds. Going in without grasping a concept of how many people he’ll be going up against--and putting Jack involved with--is something he doesn’t wants to risk. Not yet, anyway. Dark knows he’s not that desperate yet. He wants this operation to be as seamless as possible, and knows that he has to bide his time. 

The lust for bloodshed within him will have to wait. For now, he needs to plan. 

“Send me a copy of that layout,” Dark orders, rising to his feet. “I’m going to look it over with Anti, and see what we can come up with.”

Jules gives him a subtle nod. Rarely is Jules agreeable, but Dark supposes his wounded pride at being duped changes someone, even if temporarily. Without waiting for a dismissal, Dark rises to his feet and exits. 

~~

Anti’s arm is healing pretty well. The break Dark did on it wasn’t too nasty, so it’s healing rather solidly, and Dark is a tad grateful Anti didn’t push him further. 

Still chain smoking out the mouth, he sits on the arm of Dark’s chair and looks over the layout of Cry’s current base of operation. 

“We might just have to risk a blind frenzy,” Anti says after a long moment. “I know Cry’s not smart enough to bring a bunch of well trained, highly talented people. He doesn’t care to. Employing them would be too ineffective as far as cost. He needs mindless meat sacks that are down on their luck and are scared of him. They probably won’t be anything except a little trigger happy.”

“Trigger happy is unpredictable, and I don’t like unpredictability,” Dark counters. 

“Ask that to every conquest you’ve ever fucked,” Anti blows smoke into his face. “Anyway. I didn’t think you’d like that idea. It’s messy and frankly I don’t like our odds. Have you considered organized chaos?”

Dark raises a brow. “None of this is organized chaos?”

“I really thought you were smarter than this,” Anti sighs. He offers a puff of the cigarette to Dark, which he takes gratefully. “Basically, I think we should use me. I’m going to go in there and tell him you’re plotting against him.”

“I think that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever come up with,” Dark sucks in a deep breath. “But go on. I’m excited to hear how this plays out.”

“Shut up,” Anti grouses out. “I’m serious. Think about it. He already doesn’t trust you, and he’s waiting for you to pull one over on him. He knows I have a history with you, and he likely doesn’t know that I’m related to Jack. If I go in there and confirm his suspicions, he’ll think I’m betraying you. I can play for both teams. It’ll allow me access to their organization and we can make a plan from there. Maybe planting devices.” 

It’s not the worst idea he’s ever heard. Perhaps not the best, but maybe it’s the best they’ve got for now. “Do you think a power outage would work?” 

“In theory?” Anti prompts. “Yes. It may cause just enough ruckus to disorient everyone, and get you to Cry’s location. If Jules can hook us up with devices that can power down the organization for at least three minutes, we can take out some of the lower levels and get up to wherever he is with minimal trouble.” 

“This is a game of chance,” Dark warns him. “He could be expecting that. He could not trust you. And remember Jack’s going to be with us--he’s a wild card. I don’t know what he’s going to do.”

Anti presses his lips into a thin line. “Your biggest problem is that you treat him like a child. He’s not. He may not be adjusted to criminal life, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of understanding. Brief him on the plan like you would anyone else, and he’ll adapt.” 

“Like you do,” Dark’s smile is involuntary. “I really hate you, you know?”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all day,” Anti purrs. Then he’s back to business. “This can work if we play it right. Let me try to go in with Cry. I’ll judge if he buys it. If he doesn’t, we’ll go back to the drawing board and figure something else out. In the meantime, confirm with me if Jules can cause a blackout.”

“Jules can do anything if you challenge him,” Dark leans back in his chair. “Alright. Go for it. Be careful, Anti. I can’t afford to lose you at this stage in the game.” 

His old companion’s face quirks in amusement. “Is that concern I hear in your tone? My, my, little brother certainly did a number on your feelings.”

Dark gives him a meaningful side-eye. “You want me to break that other arm?”

“I’ll be careful,” Anti promises, low and soft between them. “As long as you don’t do anything stupid.” 

It’s a threat if he’s ever heard one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please share your thoughts with me and support what I do over at galaxyghosty.tumblr.com! I really love hearing from you guys! 
> 
> Thank you so, so much for being patient and sticking with this story as it rapidly approaches its conclusion. Love you all so much!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and you're always free to chat with me on Tumblr at galaxyghosty.tumblr.com! I post TMD updates and other various projects over there.
> 
>  **[EDIT]:** Inverse is a fan-oc created by my friend Kameren! We talked a lot about him as a character and he fit very well into the story, but he's original! :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [To the Wild](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250609) by [kattastic99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattastic99/pseuds/kattastic99)




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